


rose to the gold throne from the asphalt

by blanchtt



Category: Incredibles (Pixar Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 05:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20040805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchtt/pseuds/blanchtt
Summary: She’s been around danger most of her life. She’s too smart to ask questions, and Evelyn’s too smart to give answers.





	rose to the gold throne from the asphalt

**Author's Note:**

> In which Evelyn is more of a lawbreaker than a villain, really, and Helen is a single mother.

She’s been around danger most of her life. She’s too smart to ask questions, and Evelyn’s too smart to give answers. She can’t help a guarded comment though, not if it’ll save them both grief later down the line.

“Don’t think you’re supposed to have that.”

The garage is clean, spacious, and brightly-lit, behind Evelyn’s grandly-designed house and less like a garage in reality and more like a lab, the only give-away being a row of three large sectionals door. She wouldn’t expect anything less of Evelyn. 

Helen leans up against the side of the open door she stands in, shoulder against the metal and takes a sip from the tumbler of whiskey she’s brought Evelyn before holding it out in her direction, ice cubes clinking softly against the glass. She doesn't make the move across the space between them, lets herself watch Evelyn working from where she is instead.

Even half pulled apart, she can tell that the bike—a new one, or at least new in that she hasn’t seen it before—is much too nice for a woman right out of prison and with johnny law breathing down her back. But, then again, the Deavors didn’t get where they did being idiots _ or _being poor. There’s surely something not insignificant socked away in the Caymans or in Panama, something that paid off the high-priced lawyer that got her off on a technicality and with the minimum of publicity, instead of thrown in federal on charges of grand theft auto.

In the growing silence between them Evelyn picks up a wrench, fiddles with something deep inside the bike before looking up. She’s got her hair slicked back, no make-up, and Helen finds her like this, in loose pants and a less-than-designer button-on that she doesn’t mind getting grease on just as attractive as Evelyn at her grip-and-grin best.

“You can tip off the police or, you know,” Evelyn says instead with a shrug of one shoulder, a self-satisfied smile that says she knows the answer before she even has to hear it. “You can not be boring and help me.”

She knows enough about bikes to keep hers going, but Evelyn’s knowledge is on another level entirely and she’s curious to see what mods she’s made, and so, hook, line, and sinker, Helen rolls her eyes, walks over and kneels down next to her, hands Evelyn the drink and trades it for a wrench.

-

The other thing the Deavors are exceptional at is avoiding a scandal. Despite Winston’s pleas that Helen’s overheard, that’s not to say that Evelyn hasn’t done her damnedest to cause one.

There’s something for the city, at a museum of something-or-other in New Urbem, and Evelyn may be wearing a dress, but she slips away, comes back with a drink, and from her posture, from her own posture mirroring the emotion coming off Evelyn, it must be clear to anyone with _ eyes _that they’re drinking together, Helen taking the champagne Evelyn offers her, as more than just friends, stretching the limits of what’s considered appropriate, of what doesn't give them both away.

Later, only the slightest bit warm with alcohol, nowhere near close enough to blame anything on the drinks, there’s Evelyn’s hand on her hip, Evelyn leaning in close, whispering _ let’s blow this joint _ close to her ear.

They don’t make it out of the building, Evelyn pressing her up against the wall of a stall of the museum bathroom. It’s not to say that it’s something she should be scandalized at as Evelyn’s teeth work against the curve of her breast, a hand hiking up the dress around her hips and slipping between her thighs—Elastigirl has gotten up to her fair share of trouble. But at thirty-seven, mother of three, it’s not something she’d imagined would ever happen again.

(There’s a quick call to Vi and Kari, the two of them assuring her that everything’s okay, giggling with the novelty of being left in charge, and it’s the only way she’s able to do this without worrying herself sick.)

Later, at Evelyn’s place, lingering in the bathroom before joining Evelyn in bed, she looks at herself, at the light but numerous marks that Evelyn’s left on her collarbone thanks to the low neckline of her dress. Luckily, they’re surface enough to look like they’ll clear up relatively quickly and nothing’s above the limits of her suit.

They show up to DevTech together the next morning, Evelyn hiding the lingering hangover under sunglasses and a floppy hat and herself nursing a tea, as ready to work as they can be, and if anyone notices anything, just like with anything else at DevTech involving Evelyn, they’ve got sense enough not to say it.

-

It’s a shock to find it in the garage the next time she dares to go in there, chassis back together and paint job completely redone to a deep, glossy red, Evelyn casually saying, “So, what do you think?”

There’s a hint of sincerity in her question—maybe not much, according to some other people, not as much as another lover would like. But Helen hears it, knows at this point how to read her. 

(It’s the same in bed, Evelyn holding on stubbornly, fighting tooth and nail until it’s just too hard not to, finally, with shaky limbs and kisses that are softer, lingering, lets herself be vulnerable.)

“I think,” Helen starts, interrupts it with a sigh. So much for plausible deniability. “I think that I’m in the wrong line of business.”

It’s not a new Elasticycle. That’ll come later, Helen supposes, once Evelyn starts to gather the material _ again _ and plans to put another one together _ again _. She has yet to live that down, But this is quicker, easier, to modify something already existing. And Evelyn smirks, stands and wipes her hands on a rag she pulls out of her pocket.

“VIN’s been swapped, along with plates and some other stuff. You ever get pulled over, you’re clean as a whistle.”

So it _ is _stolen. 

Helen shakes her head, breathes out hard and wants to stay no, to tell Evelyn not to push it because she’s not sure what she’d do if Evelyn ever did end up behind bars, no fancy legal tricks this time. 

What comes out instead is—

“Can I?”

-

(She calls in a favor, has the plates run on the down-low at the station after hours and listens to Janet on the phone as she bounces Jack Jack on her knee, Vi and Dash arguing over something on the television in the living room.

It _ is _clean, and Helen grins, thanks Janet as she hangs up.)

-

It’s a warm-up, she realizes a few weeks later.

Helen takes a seat opposite Evelyn’s desk, tea in hand, Winston going on about something, asks her _ isn’t she excited! The first one worked so well, the second one will be amazing! Explain that part again, Ev! _

She likes his enthusiasm, his optimism. It speaks to the part of her that put on a suit and mask in the first place. And Evelyn speaks to her too, to that part of her that can’t help but smile as Evelyn listed her stats, her saves, how good she’d look as the face of Super partnership with DevTech.

“Elasticycle Version 2.0,” Evelyn announces, spreads out a schematic on her desk for the two of them to admire. “Now let’s get to work.”


End file.
